Let Those Cowards Come

This is what the FBI told me last week. I don’t think they were too thrilled when I responded:

“Let those cowards come.”

They fail to realize that this is absolutely nothing new to me. This is part of my life.

And I’m good with that.

When I started fighting years ago and they announced that I was an “Army Ranger” (I was Special Forces, but whatever), I was immediately faced with Facebook warriors from the Middle East claiming they intended to kill me. People all over that region were hopping on the various MMA forums claiming they wanted my head.

Well, after over a decade of making trips to their land and giving them ample opportunity to make true on their threats, I am excited to pass a message to all who have made these gutless attempts at bullying:

I’m still here.

Yup. Still walking, running, fighting, and kicking ass—waiting for one of these spineless Daesh to even make an effort at coming to find me in America.

Still nada.

That’s because they are nothing but cowardly and impotent murderers who prey on the weak. They look for soft targets who don’t know how to defend themselves. They seek out the most defenseless in order to make themselves appear stronger than they really are.

I’m not a soft target—and they hate that.

These Daesh hate the fact that I’m better than them in every possible way. They hate the fact that I’m not some weasel college student who runs for their “safe space” or gets offended by empty threats.

People in places like Paris, France or Cologne, Germany who have tried to show them tolerance have received no sanctuary from the hate and rage from these terrorists. All of Europe has attempted open-arms, hyper-politically-correct approaches in trying to assimilate their culture into their societies and the response has been murder and rape.

I stand for everything they despise and I think it kills their inner child.

So to ISIS or ISIL or crappy worthless excuses for human beings—whatever you call yourselves—check it out.

I am not now—nor will I ever be—afraid of you. Your lily-livered threats are meaningless to me because you don’t have something we Americans call “courage.”

Courage means stepping up against strong people rather than just looking for ways to exploit easy targets.

Courage means protecting those who can’t protect themselves instead of trampling on them.

Courage means standing for a principle.

You are none of these things. And because of that you will always fail.

While you and your kind exploit the vulnerable for your own personal gain, I’m here in Texas training hundreds of people to stand up to low-life garbage like you—to actually protect the weak instead of preying on them like a vulture.

I will not be intimidated by you because I train against people far tougher than you’ll ever be, and I do it on a daily basis.

You want a fight? You don’t have what it takes to fight me. You don’t have the courage because you don’t even know what that word means.

But if you do decide to send someone after me—if you actually make an attempt at pretending to be tough—then you can send whoever you want and however many of them you want. Just understand one very important thing.

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We might be alpha males but we also are sensitive beasts. Savages with souls.... capable of complex emotions. Even on the shooting range in between iterations of live-fire drills there are moments of beauty that are shared between barbarians. #love #flowers #peace #specialforces #ranger #greenberet #sniper pc: @lionskravmaga ... See MoreSee Less

The first time I was ever given the opportunity to work with the Marines was in small fire base outside of Al Assad Air Force base in Iraq. We were running combat operations all night. The 160th SOAR Night Stalkers were trying to come in to pick us up but their helicopters kept getting shot up. With no way exfil by air we walked to the nearest fire base. We had been up for 36 hours and had a pretty rough night. After conducting a sketchy link up under night vision with a bunch Marines that have been getting shot at for the past eight months, we made it in. I remember laying down on the floor. Falling asleep in moments on top of my new concrete mattress. I woke up with my a rucksack underneath my head and covered by a Marine’s poncho liner/woobie. The contrast to life in Special Forces could not have been clear. They were working out using water jugs full of sand or cement. Eating T-rations every single meal for a year. Getting bombarded by mortars and hand thrown IEDs everyday. Using old M-16s with iron sites. Their uniforms were still perfect. Their haircuts still within standards. But those blood shot eyes will be happily seared into my memory till the day I die. From that moment on I knew I would always love the Marines. This is why I love working with #fullthrottle because they love the same souls that I love. Thanks for making this day happen. #marsoc #Marines ... See MoreSee Less